


Gyroscope

by kozsma



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru Angst, Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru Fluff, M/M, POV Iwaizumi Hajime, POV Oikawa Tooru
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-06
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-17 09:27:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29223177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kozsma/pseuds/kozsma
Summary: "he never shone those colors again, only because he thought it didn't compliment him as a rising moon."
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime & Oikawa Tooru, Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru
Kudos: 5





	Gyroscope

**Author's Note:**

> HI!! This is a huge project I've been working on for a while! I know it may not be the best, however, I was deeply inspired, and for the first time, finished a story!
> 
> Enjoy pls lmk what you think!
> 
> ALSO THERES A PLAYLIST HERES THE LINK!!  
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4jL6LMmP0rZRYQ6MOrx8hm?si=CXmPozA0TICFkbqlvbMquA

When you think of death, normally nothing comes up to you; no real answer. We, humans, were programmed in a way no one can know the unknown, for many that may be a blessing, for others a curse. As for me, I think I can see it as both, the relieving feeling of not having experienced something that’s possibly painful, but also the fear of that ‘one’ thing that may mark your last moments. Frankly, I didn’t care, it may have seemed weird at the time, but I didn’t care about what came in the future when my fate was already decided for me, the one thing no one knew; death. I hoped everything was just a foul joke coincidentally planned by every human being that knew me before birth, sort of like a code in a program or something. However, it turned out to be the complete opposite, I was screwed and I basically spent the last few moments of my life lying and painfully falling in love. With my seventeen years of life I had never truly given anything a second thought, I mean was it worth the second it took to think of it? Not to mention every other moment spent reminiscing. It was all stress-free until I just grew bored, the only truly exciting thing in my life was what I had put mine all into, even after being handed an expiration date; volleyball. Volleyball was a rollercoaster for me, sometimes I felt frustrated and overwhelmed, but the thought quickly went away after each spike and specifically after him.

Iwaizumi Hajime, my high school team’s ace, and my best friend. We met each other in middle school, it was when I first joined the volleyball club after so many years of anticipation for the legitimate thrill of an official match. In our first game, I remember him being super nervous, at one point I think I remember him crying. However Iwaizumi was never one to show those things, I hated it at first because I would spend my time on him more than anything else, sometimes I wouldn’t even realize what I was doing until the homework I was supposed to finish hours ago sat on top of my desk, empty. We eventually grew close because of the club, however, he never opened up to me, not how I wanted him to anyway.

At this time, I didn’t know I had a clock ticking, I thought my life would be like those classic ones you always saw. I wanted to play volleyball forever, make friends, get married, have kids maybe, and just retire after winning the Olympics and become the great player I am cut out to be. I think I’m grateful for that, if I knew about what I had when I was younger, I wouldn’t have found something worth my time, I wouldn’t have met someone whom I would say I fell in love with. However, maybe younger me would’ve been more selfless, I probably would’ve done, even more, I would’ve joined the poetry club or just done everything in my power to live before living was no longer within my reach.

However, my clock has been ticking since the moment my heart started beating, so one way or another, regardless of how soon I knew, my body was already taking action. I remember when I was first diagnosed with heart disease, my heart was always weak, and couldn’t pump my blood properly. I’ve had many doctor's appointments about it, but a transplant was not only near impossible because of the age and severity but also because putting a new heart in me would probably just kill me faster. I’m surprised my parents allowed me to play volleyball, it’s an intensive sport with a lot of movement and I’m at great risk of death every time I make my heart work hard, but then again, what’s so important about that when I’m dead in less than a year.

I think a lot about how I’d go, sleeping, walking, or maybe I won’t even realize how until I’m on the floor, breathing my last breaths. It’s scary, but I can’t avoid the fate that’s coming to me. My parents gave up on my health a long time ago, ever since the doctors said I’m a lost cause, they kind of removed themselves from my life, so I don’t know what time I have exactly, just math from the last time I was given a date.

After much thought, I’m sure I won’t be missing much of this world, not many people. Volleyball will be missed, the sensation of the sweat dripping down my neck as I try to catch my breath, the adrenaline rushing through you as you try to connect each move, make your team one. When I became a setter, I mostly did it because my heart would have a small break for 0.2 seconds, but also because I was setting for him most of the time, Iwaizumi. Other than that, I could’ve become anything else on the team, I would’ve done well in any position; even libero. However, I chose one thing in my life, something I could control, and I was happy about it.

After that, I lived in the gym, middle school years were my toughest, but most remarkable years.

I lived my happiest years when I didn’t know I was dying when I could swear to myself I’d be by his side forever. The horrible thing about life is that most of the time what you want doesn’t happen. I wanted to marry him one day, Iwaizumi, my best friend. However, now I don’t dare admit what I feel for him, especially since he didn’t know my ending, the closing chapter of the book.

I had the epilogue no one wanted to read, but the life story everyone thought they wanted.

In reality, I wished I would’ve skipped over the ending, I wished I would’ve never gone out that day. Some days I feel my body grow weak, my heart slow, my eyes droop; I think it’s my time. To my luck, I never truly went, it’s like my own body would neglect its own doing. I was born this way, I was given this anatomy, this responsibility. It just burdens me how my own body can’t save itself, am I supposed to try as well? Is saving me so important to my self-being, my peace, my final goodbye.

I sat at the desk in the very front, but the one next to the window. I never cared whether I was seen or not, I just cared if I was able to. I could imagine the breeze through the window, engulfing me and bringing me out, the sound of the bells ringing behind me, each getting further and further away.

I never mentioned that to me, voices were the bells of the human. We were alarmed, we sang, we communicated. So to me, his voice was a church bell on an early Sunday afternoon, the butterflies flying their way through fields as the bell rang out its call for everyone to admire.

I memorized that bell. In fear of one day no longer being able to hear it as I walked into the gym or our class. I memorized the melodies of the most beautiful ring ever given out by a bell. A husky, but stern and soft ring harmonized with the world.

Walking on that same day into the cold gym, I felt good for once. Good felt different that day, normally good to me would be no chest pains or not too much nausea, but that day, it was like if my heart could beat at a million miles per minute as I ran to catch it. At first, it felt odd, but then I noticed that health had become the new ‘odd’ to me. When I was able to spike twenty balls and feel absolutely nothing, I began to yearn for something I could never even think of asking for. Did I even deserve that privilege after so many years of neglecting the one opportunity I was given?

So when my feet touched the ground again for the twenty-first time, and I could feel the strong pulse of my agitated heart, I genuinely thought I was okay and that it was all a dream. However, there’s always a calm before a storm, and I would later realize that this ‘feeling was the feeling of my heart keeping up with an ambition that was beating faster than the drummer at the climax of the song.

My heart was polishing me, my dreams, and hopes.

However, when you polish something, the polisher always wears down in the process, right?

Later on, I came to realize why polishing myself so much became my weakness, it soon became the only thing I could do. I became so hopeful of a chance that wasn’t there, I became scared for once in my life. I was scared that I would never be able to feel that twenty-first step down again, the twentieth spike straight down onto the court. It became an addiction to survive.

I questioned many times ‘why’?

Then I remember the key to it all. The key I held wherever I went, but soon forgot about it because I kept kicking doors down to find solutions. I kept breaking the one thing in me that helped the journey to no longer wanting to survive but to enjoy what I’ve survived until I could no longer shake his hand whenever we made deals and until I stopped being able to hear the ringing of the bells on the Sunday afternoon I always woke up early to hear.

On December 25th, he told me something that I won’t ever forget.

The ringing of the bells that day rang so loud inside my head, I think my heart skipped a beat from the vibrations.

So Iwa, why did you say that to me that day? Did you know? Was it just impulse; instinct.

“Oikawa, thank you for everything you do.” You paused after you said that, scared you might crack your gold coating in front of the priest. It seemed as if he was too scared to know.

“Maybe one day we’ll go our separate ways, but I promise you I’ll always be here by your side.” he continued, his voice quivered as the wind slightly picked up, prickling the tip of his nose as he spoke.

“However, if there does come a day where it’s me versus you, I won’t hold back.” Hearing him say those words with dedication and commitment broke my heart more than only stepping down a twentieth time.

What he didn’t know that day, is that that may have been one of the last things he told me. As he stood there on the snowy sidewalk, red nose, and ears, he didn’t notice it was he against me since we first spoke.

Now Iwa, you had to fight with the only thing that could keep me alive, so it would. Because like always, life gives you what you least want, and I could tell from the quivering voice and cracks that you never wanted a day where you would have to look down at me and extend a hand to my defeat.

If I could go back in time I would’ve turned away from the gym that day, I wouldn’t have polished nor kicked doors down.

However, now, it was too late.

The battle has begun and he was losing. It was a battle of transparency I would always win because even if he held himself closed off for eternity, he never had to turn death into a clouded window.

I did not respond for a minute after he had spoken. I can’t tell if I had done it because I was finding the words, some that wouldn’t promise something I couldn’t give.

I couldn’t say:

“Iwa I’ll be here forever, by your side.”

I would be lying because my forever was just temporary.

So I imagined myself in his position, his eyes, his place, his thoughts. To my demise, I couldn’t feel it. I wasn’t able to mimic the hopeful look in his eyes, the ones that kept me going when we lost a game or when we didn’t reach a goal. The eyes held a blooming garden within them, but sadly if you didn’t look enough only thorns would be seen.

It made me feel odd about all of this, because what was I truly to him?

I saw myself as his best friend, his teammate. I wanted to be more, but it would be selfish because putting him through death is bad enough, but one of your partners? It’s not what I would want the person I deeply care about to go through.

I’ve argued that what he feels that day isn’t my choice, but then again none of this was. I never chose death, I never chose to love him, I never chose to have to say goodbye without achieving the dreams I had. So then again, why can’t I just choose the one thing that’ll help me hurt less?

So I took a deep breath in and peeked over the window that shielded my secrets and nodded; a simple, but welcoming nod.

“I’ll be here for as long as I can, till the day I can’t stand by you.” I gave him something that would be enough to get us moving again, something to break the tension I felt in my mind with the most truthful words that kept the biggest lie secret.

One day, I’ll watch him show people what he showed me.

However, for now, all I could do was prepare myself for a time where it would be the last time I ever saw it myself; his garden of hopes and dreams.

I saw him nod with hesitation like if my words only deepened a wound he opened himself. I was never able to read his mind, to me it would always be one of the biggest challenges I’ve ever faced, yet, sometimes all you needed to do was look in his eyes, they told it all.

I stayed still as I watched his breath fasten, his eyebrows remained relaxed, but his eyes never seemed to let go of that tension it held within them. They reflected the streetlights of the road as well as my dimly lit face. It just seemed as if he wanted to tell me something without truly saying it.

I wonder what he had to say that day, maybe it would have been for the worse if he let his ringing bells tell the story of the garden.

I can’t say I’m not upset to not have heard the words I thought would be shared that day. However, if I wasn’t able to tell him my future, the one that’s so close, how could I expect a sentence from him. So I closed that door that day when he turned his heel and started walking again as if he'd marked me with some type of spell and left it to work its magic. Seeing his footprints in the snow reminded me of something I haven’t gotten the chance to experience yet.

I started to remember the day he turned his heel and walked away from me, forever. And this time, his forever was no longer so temporary.

Then I just started to look at him as someone who was as lost as me, in some ways I could be considered the lucky ones. However, if someone were to tell him those same words he would deny them with every part of his being. Somehow he was so scared to ease his mind because he always thought his mind was never worth easing. Whenever he worked hard, he never hit the ball with the satisfaction he wanted to. On occasions, he would be perfect, but somehow the tension he always made sure to keep in the back of his mind never allowed him to fully see it.

I thought my clouded window would have been the thing blinding him from the truth, but what I failed to see was that he, himself, had created one to hide it.

If I told him, would that window crack?

I would never be able to truly know, not now anyway. My time has stopped ticking and all I have left are memories that I truly wish I got to tell my family. Though, at this point, he was the only family that I considered worth telling.

It ended up being he was the only one who bothered to ring his bells whenever the sun went up, when it was time to leave or when it was time to come back to reality.

As time went by, I slowly found myself getting stronger. At first, I didn’t understand, but then I realized that I felt this way because my body was using everything it had and this was a reminder I wasn’t long from reaching my epilogue.

It scared me, this time I was able to admit it. I was scared of dying and I began to regret everything I didn’t do. The times I didn’t hug my mom, times I didn’t visit my nephew, and the times I didn’t spend with him. I was mostly disappointed in how little meaning I decided to give what gave me everything I had.

It was selfish of me to have blamed the universe for something when I’m sure either way in another world, I would’ve gone away soon, too. It just felt wrong to have found your soulmate when you couldn’t even live life with them when your soul couldn’t spend time with its complement.

I felt sorry for myself.

I had fed myself so many excuses and reasons to not live, that I kept forgetting the reason I still was.

The days he smiled with sincerity was the best of all. When he would laugh and I would just admire the sound that ringed out when he did so. It helped calm my beating heart, I felt like hearing him laugh was enough to keep me running. Smiling for him was hard, but he loved to do it and I knew it because when no one else saw, his teeth would peek through and project the happiness he felt. He always thought no one ever looked, simply what he never seemed to realize is that I would always be looking, even in my grave, I wouldn’t want to miss his beautiful smile. My biggest wish is for him to express the emotion of happiness, they don’t lie when they mention it's a beautiful emotion. His smile can cure pain, His laugh can close wounds, yet he would always keep it away.

I remember when we would pass by the sea on our way home from practice.

The sun was beginning to set and you could see the ombre mess of colors painted throughout the sky. It seemed like time stopped at that moment, nonetheless, he would always move so fast. I was behind admiring something I always loved, the smell of the ocean, and how well it paired up with the setting sun right behind it.

I stopped walking, stopped rushing, stopped planning for the first time, and took a photo of the colors in front of me. They seemed duller in the camera, but what’s to be expected.

He didn’t stop until he realized he could only hear one pair of feet walking across the concrete sidewalk.

He looked back with a puzzled look, probably thinking I was a naive little boy who overly loved to look at things for a long time, and then go and save them just to remember the feeling of that moment.

Still, I hoped that death made a person a bit less naive.

The only reason I kept my love for sunsets was because of him.

I used to love the look of the pink morning sky and the way the clouds blended into the background, looking like marshmallows melting into the fire below them.

Yet, I stopped going to the shore after a while, I didn’t want to miss the sunset when I was gone. However, he would always make sure I saw them, pulling me out of my house late in the afternoon and showing me what colors would be painting the sky that day.

If he would’ve never pulled me out on those days, I would have forgotten what the sunset looked like.

I know that falling in love is something that I wasn’t supposed to do, I wasn’t supposed to claim a love for things that I won’t be able to see grow old with me. It can be the colors in the sky or the person who I wish to forever spend my days with, when you fall in love the world seems a little better than it was before, you become happier.

Yet, I never wish to have that love and emotion fulfilled because I’d never want to let go.

In another universe, we’d be there forever, fighting and giving each other the motivation to keep going and to run until we cross paths again. We would be our timers, we would be the goal we wanted to reach.

I hope that in that universe forever truly is an eternal thing because all I know is that I promised him forever, but my forever doesn’t last as long as his, and I won’t be able to look at him one last time.

My life was a constant spinning of rusted gears that would get stuck once in a while, leaving signs of decay and condition. If I were a simple machine I would have chosen to change those gears, but I happened to be the piece they stopped manufacturing years ago. Now my gears are spinning, but no longer spinning with ease and accuracy, but more of a rough push to keep me moving and functioning until one day I can no longer live my life with those gears.

You always impressed me Iwa.

He had some rusted gears, some of which he could change. Yet, he still chose to walk around with cracked silver and fake gold. Maybe he was so caught up trying to fix people he forgot he needed a lot of fixing too.

If I told him I was dying, I feel like he would have tried to save me and claim that there was no way I was going to go out without a fight. He is the person who could be bleeding out on the floor but use all his strength to jump up and heal someone else; he's dying, but he's not his priority.

It sounds hypocritical.

Here I am, dying.

However, I still judge him for putting others before him when it’s exactly what I’ve been doing ever since I met him.

I would apologize but what for?

Hanging promises left over when I’m gone, leftover memories of my pity.

Dying surrounded by pity is worse than dying alone.

No.

It might as well be the same.

I became something that many can perceive as pathetic, as something that can be looked down upon for their choices. However, I stopped perceiving myself as something to look down upon but to cherish. My body became my ally, even though it was the one who would stick in knives and leave me to fix its damage. I became what I never wanted to be, what I feared to become. Yet, even after realizing what had happened, my mind felt the same as before. Becoming hopeful never took away the fear, it never took away the uncertainty.

Sometimes my body would stab more than once a day, sometimes my pale face and darkened eye bags would help me cosplay my future self. Although no one ever asked, I think they knew something was wrong. When a 17-year-old kid doesn’t cough or sneeze but has the demeanor of a corpse, you get that itch in the back of your head, ‘is he dying?’, even if it’s a joke, it arises.

Now I wonder if that’s why he told me he was going to fight with me, did he get the hint from when my face would be deprived of color? Did that itch in the back of his head suddenly spread and became fear instead of worry, instead of a thought?

You are smart Iwaizumi, however, you were just so blind you weren't able to place the last piece of the puzzle, the one that I gave you so long ago.

Maybe someday, those sunsets will stay with me, maybe I will become them. I spent so much time looking at them, I began to envy the harmless beauty they held. I began to question if someday I could become a sunset, the one that followed to every shore he walked upon. Maybe I would become the sound of waves, the one I listened to so much to calm myself with. Maybe someday, I could see him without fear of being caught in a loving gaze. Yet it was a fear I was foolish to have because he simply never looked me in the eye, not exactly.

A secret I never told him, aside from my feelings, was that I began going to the literature club afterschool. Whenever we had no practice, I would sit in and listen about how someone writes and has it fall into everyone’s diverse aesthetic. I began trying to find how to fit his, in the end, he would have found out about me in some way.

I’d say I felt complete with myself, knowing I had found what I loved, embraced it, and realized that in the hours of life I have left, I was able to give my ending some meaning.

I am grateful I was able to give him a door to open

A hint as to what kicked down doors lead to wasted time and regret, the regret of knowing the effort put into kicking and sending everything away, was just enough time for the knife to dig itself deeper, closer to my stopwatch.

I saved time but wasted it as I went. I tried to save time loving but wasted it perfecting. I stopped watching sunsets to perfect how I would forget this world, how I would leave it. I was perfecting my death, and slowly pushing away the thought of loving my last seconds.

When you have a ticking clock, finding out that your efforts only made it tick faster upsets you. However, knowing you have that ticking clock, removes the right to become upset. It removes the right to think twice, to spend an extra second regretting.

I feel like he was always regretting, even the best of choices. Sadly, he never saw it because his clock was frozen, and the ticking had a long journey before it could start. He had time to waste, he had time to feel what breaks you inside. He had the time to rethink each dagger he chose to dig into his back. He had time to think about the fire that would melt the frozen layer of his stopwatch.

Yet, having time became what made him so weak, despite being strong in everything else.

Knowing he had the time to sulk, to perfect. It became him, and everything he built before it was just another part of an orange gradient that faded away each time the sun died down. He never shone those colors again, only because he thought it didn't compliment him as a rising moon.

Sometimes I wonder if thanking him would have made any difference. Would it have brought me any more peace? These thoughts engulfed me as we walked to school, as we entered the class.

“Oi, what are you thinking about?", he spoke to me as my lost eyes came back to the present reality. "Nothing Iwa-chan! Just thinking about the killer sets I'm going to give you!", I said, making sure my words convinced him enough for him to spare me the gaze he tends to give me when he knows I'm lying.  
  
But to my demise, he's not that stupid.

"Oikawa you've been acting weird lately, are you okay?", he asked, voice layered with worry and slight irritation as my behavior. I only did what I had learned to do when it came to this situation: _lie_. 

I knew I wasn't okay, I think anyone could tell. I just couldn't bring myself to break down in school, eyes all on me while he desperately try to find his thoughts in such utter chaos. 

I never knew someone could be both selfish and selfless.

I didn't want him to feel my pain, regardless of my craving for touch and comfort. Yet I knew deep down he deserved to know, but I held it to my heart he wouldn't, not yet anyway. 

"Iwa-chan are you my mom? I'm fine."

This time his face didn't contortion into disgust and annoyance, but more pity and regret. 

The same way he turned his face away from mine, and set afoot to take a sep, continuing the time that had been paused for brief seconds; it reminded me of that night. December 25th I felt the same thing I feel now as I stare at his familiar back, a feeling of fear. He now turned away from me once again, this time with less hope glistening in his eyes, and I stood there the same way I had done before; wondering. 

Would he have walked alongside me if I had spoken?

The clouded vision took over, yet I didn't see tears anywhere around me, just familiar figures going dim. He was always so pretty, his rough features giving him a rare elegance only the most beautiful works of art can receive. 

I never knew the last vision I would see of him was the back I started growing accustomed to. However, all this time I was doing the same; turning my back on his own desires. 

As my heart slowed, and my vision left, I wished only one thing: I only wanted to see his smile again.

Iwaizumi why was life always so unfair to those who never deserved it? Death or life, the universe found some way to test how long you could run with burning lungs and fading dreams. I wish now as I look at you one last time, that I would've never turned my back. Maybe today we would be together, no backs turned, only sincere faces.

Why did I have to see him run to me as if his life depended on it? Why did I have to see the consequences of my lies. 

Why did I have to let you go? 


End file.
